Voyage with the Vikings Page 3

  Leif frowned at him. “That is why I wanted you and the girl to stay inside the church. It’s the only place you’ll be safe.”

  Patrick took a deep breath. What if Beth had left the church? What if Erik caught her and took her to the ceremony?

  “We have to go back to Beth!” he said. “Hurry!”

  Patrick raced from the boat and back to the village. Leif followed close behind. They reached the church. Patrick threw open the door.

  “Beth!” he shouted.

  But there was no answer.

  The Feast

  “Come with me to the longhouse,” Leif said to Patrick. “The feast will be held there. Maybe someone took her inside.”

  They ran across the village. The longhouse was much larger than the church. Patrick stuck his head through the doorway and looked around. The big room was filled with men and women. A gray haze hung like fog. It was hard for Patrick to see.

  He coughed and wondered what caused the smoke. Then he saw a fire blazing in a fire ring. It was at the center of the room. Some of the smoke escaped through a small hole in the roof. But most of the smoke filled the room. No one seemed to notice.

  Patrick saw a huge metal pot hanging over the fire. He thought it looked like a witch’s cauldron.

  The Norsemen and Norsewomen sat on long wooden benches. They ate roasted fish and meat, and they drank from wooden cups.

  A group of men played bone pipes and wood drums. Young teen boys and girls sang happy songs. Others danced nearby.

  Patrick moved slowly among the crowd. He searched for Beth.

  A few men were playing board games. Erik the Red was playing a game against another man. Next to Erik was Hilda. Next to Hilda was Beth.

  Patrick couldn’t believe it. There she was, sitting on a bench.

  A small crowd moved in to watch Erik and the man play.

  Beth saw Patrick and came over to him.

  “What are you doing here?” Patrick asked.

  “After you left, Hilda came to the church to check on me,” Beth whispered. “Erik was with her.”

  “What happened?” Patrick asked.

  “Erik ordered me to help cook,” Beth said. “He wants me to learn to be a house slave. That way he can sell me for more money.”

  “But you’re not cooking now,” Patrick said.

  “Hilda got upset,” Beth said. “Erik isn’t afraid of any man. But he’s afraid of Hilda. She said she would keep me safe. I’ve been next to her ever since.”

  “What game is Erik playing?” Patrick asked.

  “Chess. It’s his favorite game,” Beth said. “But no one likes to play him.”

  “Why not?” Patrick asked.

  “Because they’re afraid of what he’ll do if he loses,” she said.

  Patrick pointed to Erik’s sword. The yellow jewel in the handle gleamed. “I think that might be the Sunstone. But I wish I could get a closer look.”

  “I wouldn’t try,” Beth said.

  Suddenly Erik slapped the table. Patrick and Beth jumped. The chess pieces bounced around on the board.

  “Checkmate!” he shouted.

  The man who lost stood up, bowed, and walked away.

  “Who will play me next?” Erik shouted.

  No one answered.

  He stood up and looked around. He saw Patrick. As he stared at Patrick’s cape, his eyes narrowed.

  “Do you play, boy?” Erik asked Patrick.

  “No, sir,” Patrick said.

  “What about you?” Erik asked Beth.

  “Y-yes,” she said.

  Patrick was surprised.

  “You do?” he asked.

  Beth opened the small sack Mr. Whittaker had given her. She dumped the red and white chess pieces onto the table.

  Erik picked up the colored pieces. They seemed bright compared to the plain pieces he used.

  “Sit down!” Erik said.

  “But I don’t think I’m good enough to play a grown-up,” Beth said.

  “Sit down!” Erik said. It was an order.

  Beth obeyed and sat across from him. She looked scared.

  “A wager for our game,” Erik said. “If I win, I will get the boy’s silver cape.”

  “What does she get if she wins?” Patrick asked.

  “You may keep your lives!” Erik said.

  The people in the crowd laughed.

  Hilda stood up.

  “That’s not fair, my husband,” she said. “If she wins, she should get something.”

  Erik groaned. “You are too kind to slaves. What does the girl want?”

  Beth looked helpless.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  Patrick cleared his throat loudly. Beth looked at him. Patrick tilted his head toward Erik’s sword.

  “Oh, I know,” Beth said. “If you win, you get the silver cape. If I win, I get your sword.”

  The crowd suddenly went quiet.

  Erik looked puzzled. “My sword?”

  “Child,” Hilda said kindly, “that sword is a family treasure.”

  “What would you do with this sword?” Erik asked. “It’s too big for you.”

  “I would keep it to remember you by,” Beth said.

  Erik smiled. It seemed as if he liked to be liked.

  Patrick stepped forward. He said to Erik, “If you’re afraid you’ll lose. . .”

  “Lose? I never lose!” Erik said.

  He pounded the table with his fist. He leaned toward Beth.

  “I accept your challenge,” he said.

  Patrick watched as the pieces were arranged. Beth used the white ones. Erik used the red ones. Her hands looked very small compared to the Viking’s.

  The game lasted a long time. Patrick paced. He saw Leif watching them closely.

  Erik was a smart player. But so was Beth.

  After an hour, only nine pieces were left on the board.

  Beth had three pawns, a bishop, and her king. Erik had one pawn, a rook, his queen, and his king.

  “We can stop now,” Erik said to Beth. “You can see that I have better pieces than you do. The cape is as good as mine.”

  “We’ll see,” Beth said.

  Erik picked up his queen. He plunked it down near Beth’s king.

  “Check,” he said.

  Erik then looked at Patrick.

  “Give me the silver cape, boy,” he said.

  Patrick frowned. He began to take off the cape.

  “Wait, Patrick,” Beth said. “Not so fast.”

  She picked up a pawn. It was the smallest and weakest piece on the board. She moved it one space forward. The move blocked Erik’s queen.

  “Checkmate,” she said.

  Erik glared at the board.

  “How did you do that?” he roared.

  Hilda laughed.

  “She has also trapped you,” she said, “with a little pawn.”

  “She must have cheated!” he shouted. “I cannot be beaten by a little girl!”

  The crowd shrank back from him. They were afraid of what he might do.

  Hilda put a hand on his shoulder.

  “My husband, the girl won fairly,” she said calmly.

  Erik stood up. His face turned a deep red with anger.

  “No!” he howled.

  He pulled his sword out of the holder. Arm straight, he held it in the air. His arm started to tremble with rage.

  “Remember your honor,” Hilda said softly.

  Bam! Erik threw the sword down on the table. He then turned and pushed through the crowd.

  One by one the Vikings around the game table left. Most of them followed Erik to the fire ring. The musicians began to play again.

  Beth thought it would feel good to beat Erik. But she felt sad as she put the chess pieces back in her sack. Winning the sword didn’t seem right somehow.

  Leif came over to them. “That was a risky thing to do. What will you do with the sword?”

  “It isn’t for us to keep,” Patrick said.

 
; “Oh?” Leif said. He lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

  “Though I always wanted a sword,” Patrick said.

  And this one was beautiful. He picked it up from the table. It was heavy. He looked at the jewel. Mr. Whittaker would be so pleased to see it. He then used both hands to slide the sword into his belt.

  Hilda came up behind the cousins. She put one hand on each of their shoulders.

  “It’s time for us to leave,” she said.

  “You have warned the other Christians?” Leif asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Warned them about what?” Beth asked.

  “The sacrifices to the gods are about to begin,” Hilda replied.

  Beth and Patrick turned to look at the fire ring. Many of the Viking men and women were now dancing around it. Cups were in their hands. They threw liquid on the fire.

  “What are they doing?” Beth asked Leif.

  “They are throwing beer onto the fire,” Leif said, “as a sacrifice to a false god.”

  The fire hissed and flared. The yellow light cast a strange glow on everything.

  A deep sadness crossed over Leif’s face.

  “My mother is right,” he said. “This is no place for Christians—or children.”

  The Full Moon

  Leif, Hilda, and the cousins left the longhouse. So did a few of the men and women. As the Norse Christians walked toward their homes, they bid Leif and Hilda good night.

  Beth breathed in the fresh air of the village courtyard. She looked up at the sky.

  Wispy green lights danced like smoke in the wind.

  “What is that?” Patrick asked.

  “I’ve seen it on TV. It’s called the Northern Lights,” Beth whispered to Patrick. It was the fourth amazing thing she had seen in Greenland.

  The moon was full. It cast a white glow over the village.

  The moon reminded her of the note from inside the Imagination Station.

  I need a Viking Sunstone before the new moon.

  Beth pulled on Leif’s sleeve.

  “When is the new moon?” she asked.

  Leif stroked his blond beard. “What manner of girl are you?” he said. “You know chess. But you don’t know the new moon is in fourteen days. Come. I will show you the Sunstone. It will teach you about the sky.”

  Patrick and Beth both gasped.

  Patrick put a hand on the hilt of the sword. “Isn’t this yellow jewel the Sunstone?”

  Leif laughed.

  “No,” he said. “What made you think it was?”

  “Just a guess,” Patrick said sadly. “So, where is the real Sunstone?”

  Leif led them to a huge rock in the center of the village. The Sunstone was taller than Beth. It had symbols, holes, and lines carved all over it.

  “We use the Sunstone to mark the seasons,” Leif said. “It also points us southward.”

  Leif knelt down by the rock. He took Patrick’s hand and placed it on the Sunstone.

  “Feel that arrow mark?” Leif asked.

  Patrick nodded.

  “At noon the sun passes over at that mark,” Leif said. “Then the Sunstone casts a shadow. We mark where the shadow falls here.”

  Leif dragged his finger across the ground.

  Beth and Patrick followed his motion.

  Several flat rocks surrounded the Sunstone. Symbols and holes were carved into the rocks as well.

  “When the noon sun reaches these slash marks,” Leif said, “we know it is spring. We can sail.”

  “Can the Sunstone be moved away from Greenland?” Beth asked.

  Leif looked at Beth.

  “Of course not,” he said. “This stone will only work in this place. My people rely on it.”

  Beth turned to Patrick. She whispered, “Now what are we supposed to do?”

  The Bolted Door

  Patrick and Beth were alone in the church. Leif had already said good-bye. Hilda had helped the cousins get ready for the night. And then she, too, had left them.

  A small fire burned in the fire ring. Wrapped in warm fur blankets, the cousins lay sleeping on the dirt floor.

  A loud thud outside the door woke Beth. She had been dreaming about Albert. She dreamed he was trapped in a tall tower. He had no food. No water.

  Patrick also stirred. But he was still half asleep.

  “I had hoped we could help Mr. Whittaker and his friend Albert,” Beth said sadly. “But we can’t bring the Sunstone to Whit’s End.”

  They were sad and silent for a while. Patrick snuggled deeper into his fur blanket. Trying to think hurt his head.

  “And we have to get back to the Imagination Station,” Beth said. “Otherwise the red button will sail away with Leif.”

  “We’ll go first thing in the morning,” Patrick said. “I ache all over. I’m tired.”

  He rolled over. His back was now toward Beth.

  “No,” said Beth. “We have to go now. I have a feeling it is morning.”

  She threw the fur covers off and sat up. She put on her boots.

  “Come on, Patrick,” she said. “Let’s see if the sun is up.”

  “Maybe we should stay,” Patrick said. “There’s no school here.”

  “Stay? Leif is leaving for Norway,” Beth said. “Then Erik the Red will make us his slaves. He might even sell us to a farmer. Then you’d wish for school.”

  “I don’t want to take care of sheep,” Patrick said.

  “And remember that we have his sword—a family treasure,” Beth said. “Don’t forget what happened last time someone took his treasures.”

  Patrick decided he wanted to be far away from Erik. He quickly put on his boots. “Okay,” he said. “I’m coming.”

  In a few minutes, they were ready. They went to the door. They pushed on it. They pulled on it. It wouldn’t move.

  “There must be a beam across the door outside,” Beth said.

  Patrick took the sword from his belt. “I’ll whack at the door with this. Step back.” He lifted the sword with both arms above his head.

  Wham!

  The sword made a small dent.

  Wham!

  Patrick swung as hard as he could.

  Wham!

  Beth covered her ears. “The banging is too loud. You’ll wake the whole village!”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” Patrick asked. He kicked the door.

  It slowly swung open.

  The cousins looked at the doorway. They expected someone to step inside. No one came.

  Patrick pushed the door farther open. He stepped outside.

  “How did that happen?” Beth asked.

  The wood beam that had locked the door was now resting against the outside wall of the church.

  “Look!” Patrick said and pointed.

  A man was running away from the village. Patrick saw the faint outline of a helmet on his head. He also heard the clanging of the man’s armor.

  “Who is that?” Beth asked.

  “I don’t know. But he’s wearing armor,” Patrick said.

  Beth looked at Patrick. “So?”

  “Vikings don’t wear armor like that,” Patrick said.

  Beth pushed past Patrick. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “The sun is rising. We have to get to that ship. Or we’ll never get home.”

  The Red Sail

  The cousins ran up the hill toward the Viking ship. Beth’s dress flapped around her legs. The sword banged against Patrick’s leg. They both ran slower than usual.

  From the top of the hill, they saw that the ship’s red sail was up. It fluttered in the breeze.

  “Hurry!” Patrick said to Beth.

  Beth kept her eye on the ocean. Clouds were moving in. The morning sun was now almost covered. Beth squinted to see the water. Patrick was right. The oars were down and the Viking ship was moving away from the shore.

  “We can still make it!” Patrick said.

  They heard the sound of hooves behind them. Patrick looked over his shoulder. This time
it wasn’t reindeer. A man on a horse crested the hill.

  “It’s Erik!” Patrick said.

  “Is he after us?” Beth asked.

  “I don’t want to stick around to find out,” Patrick said. “Run!”

  Beth lifted her dress to her knees to get the cloth out of her way. She ran as fast as she could toward the jetty.

  Patrick began to follow. But something inside told him to wait. He turned.

  Erik was coming upon him now. They made eye contact. The Viking pulled back on the reins.

  “How did you get out of the church?” Erik asked. “I bolted the door this morning.”

  “Someone helped us,” Patrick said.

  “It doesn’t matter. You won’t escape me,” Erik said. He lifted a long spear. “You have my sword. You and the girl dishonored me in front of my people. I want revenge.”

  “We didn’t mean to dishonor you,” Patrick said. He glanced at Beth, who was now near the ship. She had run without looking back.

  “I will now send you to your gods,” Erik said. He drew his arm back to throw the spear.

  “God,” Patrick said. “There’s only one.” As he said it, he prayed God would help him now.

  At that moment, there was an earth-shaking roar. Patrick spun around. A polar bear stood on a nearby cliff. It roared again even louder.

  Erik’s horse whinnied. It reared up from fear. Its front hooves waved wildly in the air.

  Erik dropped the spear. He shouted as he was thrown from the horse.

  Whomp!

  The Viking moaned. The horse ran off.

  Patrick saw his chance. He began to run. He saw that Beth had made it aboard the ship. She was shouting for him to hurry. The oars were up. But the wind had caught the sails. It was pushing the boat farther from shore.

  Patrick had taken only a few steps when he heard Erik cry out.

  Patrick looked back.

  Erik was clutching his ankle.

  “Aiii!” he said. “My foot is hurt. I can’t walk.”

  Patrick slowly approached Erik.

  “Really?” Patrick asked.

  “I don’t play children’s games,” he said. “I’m hurt!”

  “I’ll help you up,” Patrick said.

  Erik sneered and spat on the ground. “Go away, boy. I don’t need your help. Run now, unless you are a fool.”